


Cuppa Joe

by SophieHatter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Science Fiction, Shameless Smut, Smut, What the hell am I doing?, really I have no idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieHatter/pseuds/SophieHatter
Summary: The wrong cup of coffee.An unplanned launchpad disintegration.An alien ship without a crew.Without any of these, would it ever have happened?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I need another wip like a hole in the head. But on the bright side, I’m writing S/J fic again, so that’s good, right?

“Tall flat white with extra shot for Sam. Colombian with hazelnut for Jack.” The curly haired barista placed both bring your owns down at the same time. Sam reached for her teal Keepcup, her hand nearly colliding with the man reaching for the black travel mug. 

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time. Sam turned to give him an abashed smile and was surprised to see a similar expression on the face of the silver haired man. He nodded once, brown eyes amused, taking his cup and turning to walk out of the coffee shop. 

Sam watched him until she stopped at the service bar, taking the lid off her cup and reaching for the honey squeeze. The brown liquid she saw puzzled her for a moment and then she realised what had probably happened. What was the silver haired guy’s name again?

Grabbing the lid and trying to fit it back on as she hurried to catch him, Sam spied him about to get behind the wheel of an old, beat up truck. 

“Hey!” Damnit, what had the barista called him? “Joe!” He continued getting in his truck. Sam made it to the curb and did the only thing she could think of in the rush to get his attention, slapping her hand down on the hood.

Joe’s head snapped up, a scowl creasing his forehead. “What are you doing?” He demanded, hand braced on the open door of his truck as he paused, half out of the seat.

“Sorry,” Sam apologised for the second time. “It’s just that I think they mixed up our orders.” Cap tilted at an odd angle, she held her cup up for him to see. 

“Ah, no,” Joe replied, reaching back in the cab for his black mug. “This is definitely mine.”

“I, yes, but,” Sam took a breath. “Have you tasted it, yet?”

Joe clearly considered her more than a little unstable, but he sniffed at the lid of his mug and then popped it off to look inside. “No hazelnut,” he muttered. 

Sam stepped off the curb, coming up on the other side of his open door. “And it has cream,” she observed. 

Looking down from his higher position, the man was forced to concede that she either had mental powers out of the ordinary or that maybe their orders had been mixed up. 

“I probably have your order. Something as dark as the lord of hell’s behind?” Sam held her cup out to him. 

Exchanging cups with her, Joe looked into her mug and then sniffed it. “Yeah, this is mine,” he confirmed. 

“What now?” Sam asked, turning back towards the cafe. “Want to go back in there and get it fixed?”

Joe looked over at the shop, which was predictably busy for this time of the day, and then back at the tall, blonde woman holding his travel mug. “Got twenty minutes?” he wondered. “I’ll share my danish with you.”

Taking in the queue, Sam shrugged and turned back to smile at Joe. “Alright,” she agreed.

After reaching in the truck to get his keys and the brown paper bag holding the danish, Joe led them across the road to a bench on the edge of a park. “This good?”

“Sure. I’m Sam,” she offered as she sat.

“Jack,” The silver haired man replied. 

“Not Joe?”

“Ah. No.” He appeared puzzled. “Pretty sure I'm Jack. It’s been forty-one years, after all.”

“Right,” Sam blushed, feeling like an idiot. “I’m pretty sure I'm Sam.”

Jack looked around the park before asking, “This isn’t some kind of prank, is it? Because I haven’t seen you on base, but it’s a pretty big place and maybe the guys have set me up because it’s my last...”

“No,” Sam shook her head. “I promise it’s not. It’s just me. And my nerves. And the lack of sleep.”

“Nerves?” Jack asked, testing the heat of his coffee with a cautious sip.

“I’m here for an interview. And then a trial period, if that goes well.”

He took in what she was wearing: knee length pencil skirt, blouse, jacket, stockings and heels. Unusual weekend wear. “It is Saturday, right?” Jack asked. Sometimes, what with missions and working under the mountain, he lost track of the days of the week. 

Sam laughed and Jack liked the way her clear blue eyes flashed, her chin rising up before she turned slightly away. “Yes, it is. This was the soonest I could get here and filling the position is apparently urgent, so today it is.”

“Well,” Jack reached into the bag and tore the danish, handing her the larger half. “Between the caffeine in your extra shot creamed thing there and the sugar in this danish, I'm sure you’ll do just fine. If only you don’t argue with your new boss over his name.”

“Good interview tip,” Sam agreed, biting into the sticky pastry. “You work on base?” She asked after swallowing. 

“Not for much longer,” he replied. “My commitment is almost done and I had some leave to take, so I'm finishing up.”

“Got plans?” Sam wondered. 

Jack shrugged, eyes scanning the park. If she asked him, Sam was sure he’d know exactly how many people were within a quarter mile radius of them. “I’ve got a cabin up north. Going to head up there for a few months then decide if I want to spend the winter there or here.”

“You like the snow, then?” 

“Born and bred.” He laughed as Sam shivered involuntarily. “You from someplace warmer?”

“I’ve been in the tropics, but all over, really. Air Force brat,” she told him, guessing he’d understand. 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “Got one of those, myself. But not actual Air Force?”

“Not exactly. But it’s a long story,” Sam deflected, showing the first sign of actual nervousness since they had met. She tipped her head back, finishing the last of the coffee. 

Jack looked at the teal cup he was holding and took a large swallow, trying to hurry himself along. “If you need to go, I’ve had enough,” he told Sam, offering her the cup back.

“I’ll finish this first,” Sam waved the quarter of danish that she had left. “Don’t rush.”

He relaxed back into the bench and took a smaller mouthful of coffee. “Where are you interviewing?”

Sam gave an apologetic grin. “On base. That’s all I can say.” She popped the last piece of danish in her mouth and chewed while Jack looked her over, head tilted to one side. 

“Academy?” He ventured, then shook his head. “Nah. You’d be able to tell me if it were that. NORAD?”

Sam pressed her lips together and then grinned. “Can’t say means I can’t say.” Getting to her feet, she offered Jack his mug back. “And, unfortunately, I should get going or I'll be late for my classified rendezvous. Thanks for sharing your danish.”

Holding out her mug, Jack took his black one, looping a finger through the handle. “My pleasure. Good luck with your interview.”

“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, hesitating before turning towards the cars parked opposite. “I hope retirement treats you well.”

“Me too,” Jack replied and watched her cross the road and slide into a sleek little silver car that somehow seemed to suit Sam perfectly. For a second he’d considered giving her his number but a woman with a car like that and legs up to everywhere was unlikely to want to have dinner with an (almost) retired Air Force Colonel.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

It was an odd day for Jack. Sure, there was paperwork on his desk and he’d been cornered by Daniel for twenty minutes as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, but there was no sense of more to do, more to see. Instead, his future was stretching out unplanned and lacking urgency. It left him feeling hollow. Empty. 

A weird sensation for a guy who’d never been an adult and a civilian at the same time. 

Restless, he prowled the corridors under the mountain, now wishing he’d let himself be dragged into Daniel’s office to see whatever artefact he had been talking about this morning. Now he had to avoid his archaeologist friend lest Jack let slip that he hadn’t actually been listening. It wasn’t really his fault, he’d still been thinking about the long legged, blonde haired Sam as the elevator descended and Daniel had started in on whatever it was he wanted to tell Jack before giving him a chance to say ‘hello’.

Jack had to stop thinking about Sam. Now he was mistaking random blonde personnel in the hallways of the SGC for the drinker of coffee in a teal coloured cup.

Or maybe not, he revised, watching the woman turn the corner, walking beside General Hammond.

Trying to keep it cool, Jack hurried his pace, slowing to turn the corner just in time to see General Hammond gesture the woman to proceed ahead of him into one of the science labs. Either his eyesight was going or that was definitely the woman who ate half of his danish on a park bench in downtown Colorado Springs. 

“Jack,” General Hammond boomed down the hallway. “Come and meet the newest member of our happy little family.”

It was too late to pretend he hadn’t heard and, even if it was Jack’s last day on the job, he had too much respect for the General to walk in the other direction.

“If you’re sure that won’t put her off, Sir,” Jack replied, closing the distance.

Sam had stopped and turned a few paces inside the lab, waiting to see whoever the General wanted to introduce her to. Eyes wide in surprise, a smile curling the corner of her mouth, she reached out to take Jack’s hand as they were introduced. 

“Dr Samantha Carter, please let me introduce you to Colonel Jack O’Neill. Don’t get too used to him, he’s on his way out the door.”

“Oh?” Sam asked, her smile growing. “Not for disciplinary reasons, I hope.”

“If that were the case, they’d be making me stay. Good to meet you, Doctor.” Jack lingered in the handshake a little longer than strictly necessary. Sam’s grip was strong and firm, her skin calloused in places. 

General Hammond looked between the pair, sensing the familiarity between them. “Dr Carter, you told me you didn’t know anyone in the programme.”

Sam’s smile faltered as she nervously adjusted her jacket. “I didn’t know Jack was in the programme, Sir.”

Jack backed her up with, “And we only met this morning by accident. And we did that, y'know, _I can’t tell you what I do ‘cause it’s classified_ conversation that you end up having with people when you don’t know who their job interview is going to be with. Congratulations, by the way,” he added in an aside to Sam.

“Thanks,” Sam murmured, still uncertain as she eyed the General.

“How fortunate,” General Hammond smiled, looking up at Jack. “Seeing as you have already met and it's Jack’s last day and I'm sure all his paperwork has been completed and turned in to Walter -“

Jack tried to keep from wincing at the not so subtle prod from his CO.

“- Because he wouldn’t be strolling the halls unless it was. Jack can bring you up to speed on the military side of the programme. And after lunch he can hand you over to Dr Jackson for the anthropology and archaeology part of your briefing.”

He gaped a little as he looked between the General and Doctor Carter. Jack’s instincts were yelling _no_ and _yes_ at the same time. _No_ , because he usually avoided the more official functions of his role, at least, the tedious ones. _Yes_ , because he’d come to the conclusion that he should have given Sam his number this morning and had been regretting the missed opportunity.

Sam gave him a broad smile and Jack found himself changing his opinion on the tedium of on-boarding briefings. “Welcome to the programme, Dr Carter. We have aliens.”

“So I have just learnt,” she answered, eyes wide. “This is not going to be a typical briefing.”

“Gods, I hope not,” Jack replied, gesturing back into the lab and following her. “Typical briefings are so _boring_.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Hammond said. “If there’s anything that you need, Dr Carter, just let Walter know.” Then they were left alone. 

* * *

O’Reilly’s was packed for Jack’s farewell, which was unsurprising with the invitees including those from Cheyenne Mountain, Peterson and the Academy, past and present. Despite the crush of folks in and out of uniform, Jack could feel her presence the entire time, like a lodestone pulled to north. 

Jack kept trying to make his way over to his best friend and the SGC’s latest employee, but every step seemed to be impeded by well wishes from his friends and colleagues. It took him an hour and two beers to make it from the door to the dance floor and he hadn’t even been trying to make it in that direction. 

But Hammond must have taken that for a signal and Walter was yelling for quiet and calling the mass of people in the bar to attention. After two mildly embarrassing anecdotes, Hammond called on the crowd to cheer a farewell for the colonel. 

The swell of people trying to talk with him resumed and Jack was halfway through a third beer when his bladder called for attention. Squeezing through the crowd, Jack made use of the facilities, picking a stall for three minutes of privacy. He hated making small talk while holding his dick. 

Washed, relieved and refreshed, Jack resolved to find food - necessary to counter the alcohol - and Sam - necessary to counter the tedium of reliving the same three service stories - in that order. 

He found Sam first, sheltering in the shadows, holding a basket of mozzarella sticks and onion rings.

“What are you hiding from?” Jack asked her. 

“Some people I'd rather not talk to,” Sam explained, her usual smile gone. 

“Someone haze you on your first day?” Jack asked, his concern plain.

“No, no,” Sam shook her head. “From a long time ago.” Noticing Jack still looking at her, troubled, she added. “From when I was at the Academy.”

“So you’re ex Air Force,” he noted, looking over the crowd. “Who is it we’re avoiding?”

Sam shot a quizzical look at Jack before gesturing off to the left with her basket. “Tall guy at the bar, red hair. Two behind him, the balding one in the black bomber jacket and the one beside him with no hips.”

“What did they do?” Jack wondered. 

“Sore losers,” Sam replied, beginning to slip off to the right as the tall one finished at the bar. 

“Wait,” Jack urged, reaching for her elbow. “I’ve got an idea.”

Sam seemed happy to follow him, so he lead her up the low rise of steps. Jack caught the broad grin Sam gave as she saw the pool tables. “Surely you don’t want to _play_?” She asked, her tone and expression making him wonder if this was how Sam’s sore losers had lost.

When she picked through the cues, rolling each on the table until she found one that met her standards, Jack realised that he was probably about to be slaughtered and that he didn’t mind it one bit. 

“What are we playing for?” Jack wondered. “Food?”

Sam glanced at her basket of fried heart attack. "You're welcome to the food. Put something real on the line.”

“I’ve got an unopened bottle of 12 year Johnnie Walker,” Jack offered. 

“I’ll take it. What do you want me to put in?”

“A drive of your Volvo P1800.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and she leaned into the table. “No one else is allowed to drive that car.”

“Better win, then,” Jack replied. “Best of three?”

“You’re on,” Sam replied, picking a stripe and a solid from the frame, putting them behind her back and then holding out her closed fists to Jack.

“Lucky for you,” Sam commented when he ended up going first. “You break.”

“Why’s that lucky?”

“Cause it’s the only shot you’ll get.”

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it’s smut with some plot. I can’t help myself.

During the first game she was still rattled by the appearance of Hanson and his friends, which was the only reason that she missed the third shot and Jack got to sink a second ball. After that, Sam refocused and had the table cleaned up in less than ten minutes. 

“Nicely done,” Jack complimented her, wiping the grease from the last mozzarella stick from his fingers. “Still up for best of three?”

“It would be my pleasure to kick your ass three times in a row. I’ll rack,” Sam reached for the triangle.

“Can I get you a drink?” Jack offered. 

“Diet Coke, thanks.” Sam watched the Colonel make his way through the crowd, silver topped head slightly taller than most. 

Today had been chock full of surprises. Earth had a functioning interstellar travel network, called the Stargate programme. People on this planet, people she now worked beside and played pool with, had met and regularly talked with aliens. And the dead lump in her chest called a heart might have some spark left in it for one Colonel Jonathon J O’Neill.

Sam didn’t know which of those things was the more surprising. 

Still contemplating this very strange day that had seen her appointed the head of the programme’s new Research and Public Information division, Sam had to hurry as Jack returned.

“Changing to water won’t help,” Sam noted, looking towards the jug and empty glasses that Jack had brought back along with her soda. “You’re never getting in my car.”

“Then I need to be sober enough to drive mine home, hence the water,” Jack noted, pouring himself a large glass. “Your break,” he said to Sam as she offered him the table. 

“Consider it my handicap,” Sam replied, sipping her coke and leaning against the railing that partitioned off the games area. “Unless you want this to be over faster.”

“Oh no,” Jack met her eyes and smiled, “I'm enjoying every moment.”

Something primal and low in her belly recognised that look and began spitting out hormones in response. “Your charm won’t distract me,” Sam told him, “It’s all been tried before.”

“There’s more in my arsenal than charm,” Jack responded before pausing and sinking a ball off the break. “Focus, precision, skill,” he paused in front of her as he moved around the table, “Experience.”

“I thought wisdom came with experience,” Sam shot back, eyes twinkling, “So you should know that you’ve already lost.”

Jack reached for her, surprising Sam when his hand fixed on something behind her instead of her shoulder. Holding her cue out, he grinned, “Weapons at the ready, Airman.”

Brushing her fingers over Jack’s, Sam closed her fist around the tapered wood suggestively. “I believe it’s your shot, _Sir_.”

Something flared in his eyes and from that moment it was on. Flirting may not be an officially sanctioned tactic in playing pool, but Sam and Jack utilised it for all it was worth. 

Words quickly turned to glancing touches, his hip resting against hers when they paused for a drink. Sam arched her back as she bent over the table and admired Jack’s behind as he pointedly did the same. 

When the second game came to an end, it was no surprise that Sam had won again but the buzz was quickly killed by the arrival of Dr Jackson.

“There you are!” Daniel exclaimed, eyes on Jack. “Come on, there’s cake.”

Jack rolled his eyes and looked over at Sam who grinned and shrugged. “Can’t miss out on cake,” she told him.

He faltered for a moment and then stepped in to Sam, handing her his cue. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Sam’s spine tingled as Jack’s words settled somewhere in her nether regions. “Wouldn’t think of it,” she replied, turning towards the rack to hide the flush of heat suffusing her face. 

“Don’t worry, Jack, I'll look after Dr Carter,” Daniel called after his friend.

Sam had to admit that she liked Daniel Jackson, he’d made a good first impression, but at this exact moment she found his eagerness rather unwelcome. Covering her annoyance with a sip of her soda, Sam fixed her face in what she hoped was a calm expression. 

“So, what do you think after your first day?” Daniel asked her as they took the stairs back to the main bar where the crowd was starting on the first verse of _Off We Go_.

After a glance around them to see if they were within earshot of anyone not already in the know, Sam spoke under the cover of the half drunk crowd reaching a crescendo. “Oh, aside from finding out we’re friends with aliens and that you all expect me to tell the rest of the world about it, it’s been pretty much like any other first day.”

Daniel laughed and clasped her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Dr Carter. We should have come clean about the programme years ago.”

“No shit,” she agreed, wondering if she’d ever have left NASA if the knowledge of the Stargate being under the jurisdiction of the Air Force had been public. “Are you looking forward to publishing? It must have bothered you to be right all this time and not be able to tell anyone about it.”

“I would have said yes a couple of years ago, but then I realised that I didn’t want to ever work anywhere else, so what did it matter? There’s more than a lifetime’s worth of study in my lab, let alone what’s stored at Groom Lake.” Turning towards her, trying to make himself heard over the second verse of the Air Force Song, “Are you going down there soon?”

“In two weeks. Just to meet the research teams and do a preliminary assay, start getting to know people.” Sam winced at the mess of lyrics coming from the crowd.

“You don’t like this song?” Daniel asked. “I thought you went to the Academy.”

“I don’t like listening to it dying a lyrical death,” Sam rejoined. “The cake better be worth it.”

“I’m sure it will be. Cake is Jack’s favourite food and Walter would hate to disappoint.”

“The Colonel seems well liked,” Sam observed.

“We’re going to miss him.”

“Why’s he retiring, really?” Sam wondered. 

“He’s had three knee surgeries in fifteen years, the last eighteen months ago. They weren’t prepared to leave him in the field for another commitment, offered him a desk job but Jack chose retirement.”

“That must make his family happy.”

“I don’t think Charlie will really notice, what with having started college last year.”

“No other kids? What about his wife?”

“They divorced before we ever met, must be eight or nine years ago, now. Jack was a POW, in Iraq. Sara says he was never quite the same after.” Daniel cocked his head as the gist of their conversation began to settle on him. “There’s been the occasional girlfriend, but the mission rota and random lockdowns combined with the secrecy of it all hasn't been conducive to anything long term. But now, maybe with retirement, you know?”

Sam nodded thoughtfully as the singing came to an end and the chant of _Speech! Speech!_ swelled and then ebbed as Jack raised his voice to thank everyone for coming.

Daniel’s voice dropped in volume as the crowd quieted to listen. “He’s a good guy. Don’t believe him if he tries to keep you at arms’ length, that's just his standard defense.”

 _He’s hardly been doing that_ Sam thought, but kept it to herself. Instead she said, “How do you know?”

“He saved my life on our first mission and I saved his liver after that.” Daniel turned towards where Jack stood on something that elevated his head above the crowd, gesturing while telling a story that was generating plenty of laughs. “Iraq, his divorce, a few too many black marks on his record. Jack thought it was all over when Hammond seconded him to the programme, was sure he was destined to babysit a mothballed installation until his time ran out.”

“Instead, you guys ended up running reconnaissance missions and negotiating trade deals,” Sam observed. _Across the galaxy._

“General Hammond took a bet on him that paid off. We wouldn’t be here without either of them.”

“Or you,” Sam added. “You worked out how to dial the address and then discovered the Abydos cartouche. I really wish I'd been here at the beginning.”

“This is another beginning, of a sort. Taking the programme public, heading up the inter-Agency advisory panel. It’s a new era.”

“It is,” Sam agreed, the nervous tic that had started as General Hammond explained the role during her interview returning. She remembered the exact moment she felt that stutter in her chest. It was when she realised that Hammond was asking her to be the architect of a moment that would rival President Kennedy’s Moon Shot announcement in 1961.

Daniel watched her for a minute and then laid a sympathetic hand on Sam's forearm. “Are you going to meet the President?”

“In thirty days. Right after General Hammond introduces me to the Joint Chiefs.”

“Shit,” was all Daniel could say.

“You can say that again. My Dad is going to go crazy,” Sam declared.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kowe64, and all you other lovely readers, for feeding me such lovely comments. 
> 
> See what you did? Here’s another, long awaited, chapter.

Sometime after the second piece of the very excellent cake, Sam found herself smothering a yawn as she chatted with Daniel and Lucas, SG-4’s anthropologist. The long day, packed with mind bending revelations, was catching up with her. 

Trying to be discreet, she looked around the room for Jack, finding him cornered by a couple of grey haired men. Probably Generals given their demeanour. The older men didn’t intimidate her, her own father was one after all, but she didn’t feel up to talking about her dad, either, the likely outcome when they found out her family name. 

When Sam yawned, Daniel appeared sympathetic, “Are you ok to drive? I can give you a lift back to base.”

“No, but thanks. Fresh air will wake me up, I might just step out for a minute or two.”

Daniel opened his mouth to speak but Sam brushed her hand over his forearm. “I’ll be alright, really.” Truth be told she had been talking and thinking all day and three minutes of solitude and quiet would feel like heaven.

Outside, the gravel car park was lit by a street lamp and the neon glow of the O’Malley’s sign over the door. Sam stepped to the side, eyes falling on the distant lights travelling along the CanAm Highway. She did feel more awake out here, but she had forgotten that even the warmest night in the Springs was cooler than a midwinter night in French Guiana.

Another minute, maybe two and she’d have to go back inside. 

Hearing the door open and shut behind her, she turned, a hopeful smile on her lips for Jack dying as she saw Hanson on the stoop.

“Sam,” he greeted, his tone overly familiar. “I didn’t know you were back in the Springs.”

“Jonas,” Sam said, attempting to walk the fine line between civility and dismissal. “I was just leaving.” She had her car keys and base ID, but her jacket was still inside. Forget that, she could come back for it tomorrow. Reaching into her pocket, Sam took out her keys. 

“Why didn’t you come and say hello when you saw me?” 

Jonas took a step towards her and Sam moved back, instinctively keeping the same distance between them. 

Hand by her side, Sam manouvered her longest key to sit between her fingers, making a fist around it. “I have nothing to say to you, Jonas. I’m leaving now.” Another step backward, her heel crunching on the gravel of the car park. 

“Don’t be like this, sweetheart. I just want to catch up, hear what it was like living in French Guiana. I bet you have a lovely tan. Did you go topless on the beach?” 

A shiver ran down Sam’s spine, a cold dread building between her shoulder blades. This was not who she was anymore. Samantha Carter was a survivor.

Light and sound suddenly erupted as the front door to the bar swung open again and Jack, Daniel and Lucas emerged. Jack was at her side immediately, settling a jacket over her, her own she realised. The Colonel’s arm stayed in place Across her back, hand resting on her shoulder, Sam’s heart thudding in relief at the protective gesture. 

“Hey, you didn’t need to wait out here in the cold for us,” Jack said, cheery but firm, squeezing her reassuringly. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he directed at Hanson.

Sam swallowed, finding her voice again. “Jonas Hanson, Colonel Jack O’Neill. Jonas and I were at the Academy at the same time.”

Jonas’ posture changed, his shoulders falling, the previously confident jut of his chin disappearing in the face of the three men standing with Sam. 

“Well, we shouldn’t be keeping you. I saw your friends waiting inside,” Jack said to Hanson, turning Sam with the arm around her shoulders. Daniel and Lucas closed in behind them without a word. 

“Where’d you park?” Jack asked Sam quietly as Jonas raised his voice to their retreating backs.

“I’ll catch up with you soon, Sam,” he called across the lot. 

“Under the light,” Sam told him, gesturing half way down the lot. Ironic, really, given that all those years ago it was here in Colorado Springs and because of Hanson that she had adopted the plethora of habits recommended to keep single women safe. 

“He went back inside,” Daniel told them.

Jack slowed his pace, removing his arm from around Sam. “Sorry about that,” he apologised, “The choice was to hang on to you or flatten him and I'm not discharged, yet.”

His humour had the intended effect and Sam couldn’t help cracking a grin. “No, it's fine. Thank you, all of you, for interrupting.” Truth be told, she still felt shaky, the adrenaline from coming face to face with Jonas still running through her system. She wished Jack would embrace her again.

Glancing between the two of them, Daniel began making his farewells. “Anytime. We look out for each other under the mountain and out there,” he gestured up to the stars. 

Sam’s gaze instinctively followed the direction of the gesture and his words. The things she had learned today and the wide stretch of stars above them suddenly coalesced in her mind and she found herself stunned by the knowledge that the very people she was standing there with had been to some of those stars that she could see. That she would soon visit them, too.

“... _Sam_.”

The insistent voice broke through her reverie just a breath before someone clasped her elbow. The heightened tension and the last of the adrenaline still singing in her veins, Sam twisted in the assailant’s grip bringing up the heel of her hand to meet the agressor’s chin.

“Whoa, Sam!” Jack stepped back just in time, releasing her elbow as Sam became fully aware of the situation. 

“Shit.” Stepping back, Sam wrapped her arms around herself, her jacket falling to the ground. “ _Fuck_. Shit. I’m sorry, Jack. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” he replied, hands held up, not moving, his eyes fixed on her. “I didn’t even ... I should know better.” Softening his stance slowly, Jack brought his hands down, his tone velvet wrapped around steel. “How are you?”

“I ...” Sam closed her mouth, no idea what to say. “I guess I'm more shook up than I realised.” She shivered, still holding on to herself.

“Let me get your jacket.” Careful to step around her, moving slowly to telegraph his actions, Jack retrieved the coat and held it up it up for Sam to slip her arms into. “I’m driving you back to base.”

“No, I just ...” If her hands would just stop trembling, she could drive herself. Sam shoved them into her armpits and tried to quell the shaking she felt in her spine, attempting to ignore how hard it was to get a decent lungful of fresh air. “I can’t leave my car here.” _And I don’t want to go back to base alone,_ she added silently. 

“I guess I get to drive your car after all,” Jack carefully reached for the hand holding her keys, pulled it to his chest and held it above his heart. “Let me take you home, Sam.”

It was his voice that did it, something smooth and liquid, like whiskey, running down her spine and filling her with warmth. Sam stepped into him and let Jack wall her in with his arms.

The Colonel smelled of pine and earth and a lingering hint of woodsmoke in his jacket. It was safe and comforting and Sam closed her eyes, letting the feeling sink deep into her bones. It had been long, too long, since she had been held. Intimacy was not the single career woman’s friend.

Sam leant into that need instead of turning away from it. Creating just enough distance between them, she reached for his mouth with her own, offering Jack a long, slow kiss. 

After a moment of hesitation, Jack tilted his head, kissing back, hand coming to cup her head. Even when they the kiss ended, they remained close, as if neither were willing to do something else to break the spell.

“Take me home, Jack,” Sam whispered, meeting his gaze. 

Jack simply smiled and reached into her hand, pulling the keys from her now relaxed fingers. They walked in silence to her car, Jack opening the door for her, then getting behind the wheel of the silver Volvo.

“No one else drives this car?” He asked, adjusting the seat for his longer legs. 

“My cup, my car. What else do you want of mine, Jack O'Neill?”

“Whatever you’re willing to share, Dr Carter.” He grinned at her, eyes shining in the semi-darkness, as he turned to look over his shoulder to reverse the car out of the space.

Sam turned towards him, leaning into the seat, the exhaustion of the day resurfacing as the last of the adrenaline receded. This new job with Stargate Command was shaping up to be the hardest thing she’d ever done but it seemed to come with a number of fringe benefits. Benefits she definitely liked the look of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be honest, I don’t know if this is the end of my dry spell, it might just be a brief writing sunshower. But hey, this felt good to get out there (this has a long plot worked out in my head) so, who knows?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a shock, I know, but I am not actually dead, just leading a very busy life for the moment. But the doesn’t mean I have forgotten about you, faithful readers, or Jack and Sam. Believe it or not I have a sequel to this story that I really want to write so I’m trying to get more done on this one. I promise to try as hard as I can to update again soon. 
> 
> Xx Sophie

“You live out by the State Park,” Sam remarked as he guided the car around the slowly ascending curves, the headlights cutting into the darkness in long sweeps.

“I prefer not to hear my neighbours. My northern boundary borders the Park. It’s not Minnesota but...” he shrugged a shoulder.

“You like hunting?” Sam wondered, turning to look at him in the near dark.

“No,” Jack replied with a shake of his head, the idea of shooting things for both work and recreation had never appealed past his teenage years. “Fishing.”

Nearly missing the bend as she smiled, Jack turned back to the road. A sideways glance a few moments later showed Sam with her head back against the headrest, looking out into the darkness again.

They said nothing more until he’d pulled into the gravel driveway beside his low set house and cut the engine. There was a twinge of uncertainty - unreality - that dictated the next words out of his mouth. “You don’t need to stay, I can get a-“

The passenger door swung shut leaving his sentence unfinished and Sam had the trunk open before he could turn off the headlights and pull the keys from the ignition. He fumbled for the door handle in the dark and by the time he’d climbed out and locked up the sleek 1600 Sam was waiting on the front steps. He hurried to catch up, digging his own keys out. The teeth caught in the lining and Jack was still struggling to get them free when he caught up to her. 

Handing Sam her keys, he disentangled his own and tried again, “I can drive you back or you can drive yourself-“ For the second time he was prevented from finishing a sentence as Sam grabbed for the lapel of his jacket, dragging him close and kissing him hungrily. 

Ignoring the voice of uncertainty, his hand found her waist of its own volition, sliding under Sam’s jacket and brushing upwards, feeling the soft yet firm give of the flesh over her ribs, thumb finding the underside of her breast and caressing.

There was a jingle as something fell beside their feet and then Sam’s hand was in his hair, nails scraping into the nape of his neck and Jack was walking her back until they met the wall and he could press his hips forward, a leg slotting between hers, Sam grinding on him in return as she explored his mouth with lips and tongue and little bites that raised the hairs on his arms.

When they parted again, it was with chasing nips, attempts to capture the other and leave a mark. A truce was finally established and Jack blinked, surprised to find them still on his porch, the front door locked and the keys, unused, clutched in his hand.

Sam huffed and Jack realised that she had been watching, read his confusion and found it amusing. His brain searched for a witty retort but it came up with nothing, the events of the day, or maybe Sam’s attentions, having leeched away all his customary sarcasm.

“Let’s go inside, Jack. I need to pee.”

It was the unsexy intimacy - or was it intimate unsexiness? Daniel would have an opinion on that, a part of his mind mused - of her pronouncement that brought Jack to his senses, unlocking the door and reaching for the light switch, taking Sam’s bag and jacket before gesturing down the hall. “To the left,” he murmured and then followed as she turned into the doorway and continued past to his bedroom at the end of the hall. 

He deposited her bag on the armchair before crossing to the bedside table, reaching behind the book and reading glasses in the drawer to fumble for the box at the back. He was relieved to find the condoms were still in date and he moved them to the front, in easy reach. Forward planning skills were still useful in his retirement.

The dark coloured duffle on the chair caught his attention again as he made to leave. Was he assuming too much? Don’t be silly, she had just been grinding on him on the front porch. What else was going to happen? They’d have a nightcap and she’d take the bed in the guest room?

With an emphatic shake of his head, Jack tried to banish whatever the doubting voice was and turned on lights on his path to the kitchen. His first thought was to grab them both a beer, then he changed to water, then coffee. The coffee maker was just starting to steam when Sam stepped into the kitchen, eyes travelling over the beer and water bottles on the counter next to the hissing machine. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he began, “Hydration, or caffeine or maybe another-“ and again she was interrupting, this time by pulling up on the counter and kicking off her shoes, spreading knees wide and banishing all of the English language from his mind. 

Tapping the counter between the V of her thighs, she said, “Come here.”

Jack obeyed, drawn to her on a string, and she pulled him in tightly against the laminex by the simple action of hooking her ankles behind his thighs. Brushing hands through his hair and cupping his face, Sam examined him up close. Jack’s breath froze in his chest as the clear, blue eyes bored into his. 

“I want you. Have since you shared that danish with me this morning. I drove away regretting I hadn’t asked for your number. And then I found you again and now we’re here.” There was an inquiry in Sam’s voice, questioning the source of his hesitation.

Gripping the edge of the counter, Jack looked back over the day’s events, searching until he found the source of his unease.

“Back at the bar, that guy. What happened shook you up, Sam. If you need to chase the memory away, I get that, but I just want to know you’re ok with it. That you can change your mind if you want to.” And then the other fear, hiding with the first, came into focus. Despite all indications, Jack wanted Sam to like him for him, not just because she needed safety or comfort.

Sam shook her head, a laugh bubbling out of her, leaving him confused until she shook it off and put her forehead to his. “Jack O’Neill, you have shown me more kindness and respect in, oh, about 18 hours, than that sorry piece of shit has the whole time I've known him.” 

The press of her lips to his was different again, this time affectionate, light and happy. This, this he could gel with. Wanting and laughing and flirting were about being with him and the shadow of concern about whoever car-park-creeper was swept away with her touch on his lips.

“Who he is, what happened is a story for another time, if you want to hear it.” Sam kissed the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, brushed over the stubble on his jaw and then she breathed into his ear. “I want you to fuck me good, O’Neill. Twice, at the very least. It’s been far, far too long since I’ve had a good man.”

The words licked down his spine like flame and Jack found himself growing hard again, the hunger in her tone as good as an order, his cock ready to stand at attention. Without another word, Jack grabbed her ass, pulling Sam tight against him and lifting. Carrying her as she laughed with unbridled delight at his response. Depositing her, breathless, on his bed, barefoot and flushed, chest heaving, the voice in the back of his head expressing no more doubts about where Sam was going to sleep that night. 

* * *

* * *

_Far, far too long_ echoed in Sam’s mind as Jack reached for the cuffs of her jeans, dragging the denim down as she lay back on his bed. Had it been twenty-four months since her last visit Stateside? A fortnight off, not really a holiday when nearly every minute was blocked out for appointments - medical, administrative, social.

_Twenty-two_ , she concluded, as the bed shifted, Jack leaning over her, hands on either side of her body sinking them both lower in the mattress.

_Twenty-three, damnit._ Too close to risk it.

“Sam?” His voice interrupted her calculations, just as she revised them.

His calloused fingers skittered over her cheek, rough but gentle. “It’s ok, we don’t have to-“

“No.” Shaking her head, pushing up with one hand, Jack moving with her, keeping an air gap between them, “No. I was just doing math.”

“Calculations?” Jack wondered, his eyebrow rising in amusement or what could be disbelief, “Equations turn you on?”

Jack’s reaction to her soft chuckle made her boldly add, “ _Irrationally_ so.”

“Ach!” Pushing up her shirt, Jack laid his lips against her stomach, blowing hard against her skin.

With a shriek, Sam collapsed backward on the bed, pushing at Jack’s shoulders. “Enough! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

After letting her laughter subside, Jack let his weight settle between her legs. “But seriously, everything ok?”

She worried her bottom lip for a moment. “Would you have some kind of protection? I think my implant’s expired and I didn’t anticipate this,” she gestured between them, where Jack’s chin hovered over her bared stomach, “Happening my first day back.”

The slow smile Jack gave warmed her, as did his pleased hum. He kissed her stomach tenderly and then nodded towards the bedside table. “I didn’t either, but I have a couple of condoms in the drawer. Even in date. I checked, just in case.”

“Forward planning, I like it,” Sam grinned with relief. “I knew I was right to be attracted to you.”

With another pleased hum, Jack kissed her stomach, moving lower, trailing his mouth to the band of her underwear, pulling it down with a finger so that he could peek beneath. “You know what else you’re going to like about me?”

“Tell me,” Sam watched as he worked her underwear down another inch and kissed her again.

“My attention to detail.”

Another inch of skin was revealed, along with the tight blonde curls covering her mons.

“My dedication to the mission objective.”

“Oh?” Sam wondered, lifting her hips so Jack could remove her underwear completely. “And the objective would be?”

Laying down between her legs, Jack guided them further apart, pulling one knee over his shoulder and brushing his thumb down her seam, causing Sam to shiver.

“Finding out exactly how loudly you come.” With gentle pressure, he parted her outer lips and blew a cool stream of air across the wet heat inside. When Sam whimpered, he smiled. “Just how I like it. Hot, wet and noisy.”

Jack was as mission focused as he promised, taking the time to gauge Sam’s reactions. Using the rough of his thumb against her entrance until she was oozing, he shifted to two fingers when she began begging for something inside her, hooking them upwards to bring pressure to bear as he suckled softly at her clit. He brought her to the brink once, then pulled back.

“Jack, please. Don’t stop.” Too long. It had been long since she had orgasmed from anything but her own attentions. It wasn’t fair for him to hold back like this. “I need you.”

Jack kissed the skin of her thigh while she whined.

“Look at me.” His voice was steady, with the easy confidence of a leader expecting her to follow his command. When Sam did exactly what he wanted, Jack began a slow massage of her g-spot. “I’m going to make you come, Sam, and I want to see your face.” 

Groaning, Sam tried to twist and grind herself on his fingers but Jack held her still with his arm across her waist.

“I’m going to give it to you, trust me.” And as evidence of his intentions, he caressed her hood with his thumb, watching as her stomach muscles tightened and she squeezed his fingers. “But I want you to see how much I like making you come.”

“I want to,” Sam replied and Jack rubbed his cheek against the skin of her thigh, causing her to shiver. “ _Need_ to.”

“Eyes on me,” he repeated before replacing his thumb and working her up to the precipice again, eyes trained on her face.

For a brief moment, Sam thought Jack meant to torture her, but watching a man pursue her pleasure so relentlessly was its own stimulation. The thought that 99% of sex was in the mind was the last thing she remembered before the orgasm bubbled in her, overflowing as her thighs trembled and her body tried to wrap itself around the the source of her ecstasy. 

Jack, thankfully, had the strength to prevent her smothering him, because she was helpless to forestall it herself. Senses overwhelmed with white noise, Sam only became aware that she was calling his name as the waves of pleasure began to subside. 

Laid back on the bed, Jack slid his fingers from her, stroking firmly over her thighs as the tension in them dissipated, working his way up her body, affirmations falling freely from his mouth.

“So good, Sam. Perfect. Came so loud for me, so good.” Reaching her head, propped up on an elbow, he brushed her hair back. “You’re perfect.”

It seemed ridiculous to blush after he’d had his face buried between her legs, but Sam was powerless to avoid it. Avoiding the intensity of his gaze, she turned her face into his hand, kissing the palm.

Fingers cradling her cheek, Jack turned her face back to him. “You ok?”

The crease in his forehead surprised Sam and she tried to find the words to reassure. “Wonderful. Words... hard.” Then she laughed, her emotions off kilter, unexpectedly soft and sharp, like being high.

“Good,” Jack murmured and rolled his body to lay beside her, arm across her waist, pulling her tightly against his body when she turned on to her side. “Good,” he repeated, pressing his lips to her neck and making her tremble again, “I've got you.”


End file.
